


A Good Morning

by CherryMilkshake



Series: I did not realize that you were a woman. - That is because I am not. [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMilkshake/pseuds/CherryMilkshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night of the victory party, Cadash and Bull both got wasted. That doesn't make the morning any less pleasant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a kiss prompt on tumblr. It's the first fic I ever wrote about [Andrin](http://41.media.tumblr.com/dd76566d08bbdc5babffb3efa2164bbc/tumblr_nvq9xbm9yU1qh2pnuo2_r1_1280.jpg).

The Iron Bull had seen a lot of shit the past couple years. Darkspawn magisters, regular darkspawn, a shitton of demons, and plain old regular assholes—though those weren’t unexpected.

Despite the chaos, and the shit that went down with Gatt and the Qunari, he would do it all again in a heartbeat.

He sat up and yawned, his jaw popping in a most satisfying way. He was in the fancy Inquisitor’s quarters and slightly hungover, but it was the good kind, the kind that meant he’d had a great time the night before.

Under the covers, said Inquisitor was curled up in a little dwarf-ball, nesting in the blankets like a damn cat. Bull snickered to himself, but didn’t wake them, not yet. If anyone had seen more shit than The Iron Bull, it was Andrin Cadash.

Bull tucked the covers around the little ball of mighty and powerful demonslayer and got out of bed, doing his usual pre-dawn stretches. He had to do them, or the fucked-up ankle got weird on him—always at the worst possible moment.

He had moved all the way up to shoulders and arms when Andrin woke up, red hair all askew, bun half undone, the braids in their beard all lop-sided. Bull laughed. “Mornin’, kadan.”

“Mmrgh,” Andrin replied, rubbing their eyes, smudging kohl all over their hands and face. “Mrr. Fuck.” They squinted at their hands, eyes tearing up. “Why didn’t you tell me to wash my face before bed?” they grumbled.

Bull grinned as he stretched his wrists. “I was _way_ too drunk to be your nursemaid, Boss.”

“Carry me to the washbasin,” Andrin grumbled, holding out their arms.

Bull laughed at him. “You know damn well you can do it yourself, Ser Dragonslayer.”

Andrin made a loud whining noise, but they flopped out of bed and into the side room where they kept a washbasin and mirror. As they disappeared behind the wall, Bull heard a long groan. “I didn’t take out my beard, uuuuugh. I’m too drunk for thiiis.”

Twenty minutes later, they emerged, face and hands clean, beard brushed out and tied with a single ribbon instead of the usual braids. They'd left the half-done bun though. Bull kind of liked it. Maybe he would advocate for that to be a usual thing.

Bull was done with his stretches by the time Andrin emerged, and was waiting near the balcony doors. “Morning again,” he said. “Slightly more awake now?”

Andrin yawned. “Slightly.”

“Are you actually still drunk?”

“Slightly,” they said again.

Bull was impressed. “Hey, come here,” he said, waving them over to the balcony. “I wanna try something.”

Andrin obliged and stood just outside the door. “What?”

Bull picked them up and put them on the base of one of the pillars. “Check it out,” he said, leaning down to touch their foreheads together. “Perfect height.”

Andrin smiled. “You are a sap, you know that?”

“I think it’s an appropriate morning for it, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They kissed as the sun rose, marking the first day unstained by Corypheus. The future was a mystery, but they would face it together.


End file.
